La Rima De Razón
by Championship Vinyl
Summary: Otherwise known as "The Rhyme Of Reason." Because sometimes, there is neither. ;D ESPLANIE all day long. MULTIPLE ONESHOTS. ONGOING. Rating may be elevated to M if neccesary. Other characters will appear. R&R!
1. Dirty Little Secret

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**So! This story was born completely out of my own self-aggrandizing desire for Esplanie fluff, which is frustratingly NOT fulfilled around the internet. So, I'LL do it. ;) It's not really smut, because that's really not my style, but it gets **_**close **_**(because I couldn't help it). XD Hence the higher rating of this story. If you don't like it, just don't follow this story, okay? Or if Esplanie isn't interesting enough for you, then mentally replace the names with Castle and Beckett. I'm well aware that a lot of Caskett-only 'shippers won't even look twice at this story, so it won't disappoint me. That's okay; I've got my fun. ^_^ (I DO love Caskett too, but I get SO SICK of EVERY SINGLE STORY being about Caskett! Now it's Esplanie's turn.) ;)**

**Each chapter is going to be a different 'escapade' for Esplanie. It'll fade out for the actual **_**act**_**, but it'll mostly be a lot of dates and rendezvous and general fangirl-y goodness. ^^ Each chapter is its own oneshot, and this story is where I'll be putting all my **_**higher-rated**_** oneshots, so it'll be ongoing. Updates whenever I feel like it. **

**I do not own Castle - though if Jon Huertas ever called me up and said "Hey, you want in on this," I'd be out the door faster than you can say "apples." XD **

**Oh - and thanks to my friends ApollaCammi, Cait and Mollie. They know why. It's their fault. ;)**

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Detective Javier Esposito walked out of his closet (not a walk-in, by the way; it was just that thorough a search) pulling an ash-brown hoodie down over his head. No sooner was it on than his girlfriend replaced it in his line of sight, sitting on the edge of his bed, pulling on a pair of socks for the day. She looked up when she heard him coming.

"You're wearin' that to work?" she asked, after evaluating what was different for a moment. One eyebrow inched toward her hairline in mild surprise.

"All I got left," he answered, walking to the dresser. "Least until the weekend. 'Less you want me to rob my gym bag."

"How is that all you got left?"

Putting his wallet in his back pocket, Javier threw her a little look. "You ripped open my last button-down."

Lanie's arms crossed immediately. "I did _not_! _When_?"

"Think back about ten hours."

"…Oh. Right." Damn straight, and worth every second. Hey, if things were up to _her_, the man would never be in a shirt at _all_. "Okay, well you can't _tell_ me that that was the last one you owned."

"I owned nine."

"And?"

"And you've ripped _nine_."

Lanie harrumphed, even though she mentally _dared_ anyone in the universe to blame her. She was fairly sure they wouldn't. "I don't believe you."

Somewhere between amused and resolute, Javier marched over, pulled open his third drawer, and showed her the disheveled graveyard of poly-cotton and snapped thread. (He'd kept the carcasses in the hopes that one of Castle's tailors could take pity on him Otherwise, the last resort was shopping.) He waved a hand at the mess like Vanna at the letterboard. "Questions?"

Well. Not much to say to that. Lanie uncrossed her legs and slid off the bed, holding her chin high as she went toward the drawer he kept for her. "Well if you'd learn to take it _off_ faster this wouldn't be a problem," was the defense she settled on.

Sliding his gun into its holster, Javier came around her other side and left a parting kiss on her neck. (Not her lips, not her cheek, her _neck_, because he was a bastard like that. It screamed '_take a sick day_' every time.) "Been _your_ job since day _uno, cariño_, I think I'm good with that."

"Mm-hm." Hey, _she_ wasn't going to be giving any ground. There was no _way_ her face was going to show _anything_ but mild amusement until he was well out the door - _then_ and _only_ then would she allow herself to sigh into a puddle for a few indulgent seconds.

"Lock up when you leave," Javier said, dropping his badge around his neck as he headed for the door. He'd gone only a few steps, though, when he suddenly stopped, patting around all the pockets of his hoodie and jeans, turning to look around the room. "Oh, man. You seen my keys?"

Mentally double-taking, Lanie cocked her head and looked at him, going off on a different train of thought all together. "Hold on. You only owned _nine_?"

"Well, _yeah_. How many you think I need? I'm a _guy_, not…Carrie Bradshaw."

"Oh, my God," she practically choked; "boy, you are so metrosexual for even _knowing_ that."

"I'll refrain from comment," Javier replied dryly, giving his eyes a roll. Then, more persistently, went right back to spinning around, 'looking' for his keys. "Now _where_…"

Lanie knew exactly what he was doing. And it wasn't going to work. She turned around, folding her arms and giving her best smirk of all-knowing girlpower. "Uh-huh. I'd check the living room. That's where everything _else_ seemed to end up."

"Or you could help me _look_," he suggested, slipping into a sly grin.

_Not yet girl_. "Nice try. More like help you look at my ass while _I_ look."

"Eh. Maybe. Same thing."

"You know, I don't think you lost a _damn_ thing - except your mind. I'd vouch for that one," Lanie quipped. And…well, could she _help_ it if she was a drifting a little closer? And so what; _maybe_ there was just a little seduction in her voice. He had to be taught that _two_ could play at that game. Boys never learn. "But hey: you go on ahead and go to work with the thug look. I might just happen to think you can pull it off."

"Oooh. Was that a double-entendre, Dr. Parish?" Somehow, somewhere in the gravitation, his arms managed to snake their way around her waist, and he tugged her up against him, his voice a dial lower than it'd been before.

Oh, Lanie knew that look in his eye. Part of her knew that she had to resist, there was work at the morgue to do…but a much bossier part of her brain made the other side shut up. He wasn't getting out of here without _exactly_ what he was asking for, because she wanted to make _crystal_-clear sure that she'd be on his mind for the rest of the ridiculously long day.

"Might've been," she cooed, her mouth dangerously close to his. She moved it teasingly to his ear, whispering, "Not like _you'll_ ever know."

"Oh, I think I got a guess," he murmured, fooling with the miniscule strap of her short, dark satin nightgown.

"You are just _determined_ to get some before you get in to work, aren't you." Inevitability. She was already breathless.

"If the lady obliges…"

"The lady wishes you'd shut up and go with it before she changes her mind…"

She was already kissing him, and Javier had already spun her to the wall. Barely remembering to have a little courtesy on the man's laundry supply, Lanie made quick work of raking that hoodie right back over his head, his badge hitting the carpet along with it. She pawed her hands down his chest, all the way down until her fingers hooked in the belt loops of his jeans, instructing him as to _exactly_ how close she wanted him.

Javier broke the kiss to move down to her neck, leaving a trail of heat there that she was _sure_ would have her reaching for the turtleneck today. If there was _any_ woman out there who had _ever_ questioned his _supreme_ ability at this, then screw them, and good for her. Because Lanie was ten steps past losing her rational mind. "You…crow _once_ at this precinct," she panted, "and I will _kill_ you…beyond recognition."

"Price I can live with," he managed back, his breath hot on her jawline. By the time he had the satin falling crumpled to the floor, she'd made sure his jeans followed them, and the rest took care of itself. Thankfully, the fates were kind enough not to interrupt their morning with a body. They really didn't need another one. Two worked fine.

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Kate Beckett pulled her keys out of the ignition, got out of her car with a coffee in hand, and locked it up behind her, venturing down into the OCME. She made quick work of her usual route, wanting to get these results over with so that she and Lanie could maybe have a few minutes alone. It seemed like _weeks _since they'd talked.

With an elbow, Beckett pushed open one of the heavy double-doors to the main exam room. "Hey, Lanie."

"Hey, there you are," the familiar friendly voice greeted her. "About _time_ you showed up. I've got three new red lights on Mr. Dougherty and he did _not_ go quietly."

Beckett took in her friend's greeting, but something was distracting her…something was different. About _Lanie_. The darker woman had her back to Beckett, which gave the detective _plenty_ of studying opportunity… Lanie had her _hair up_. Twisted into a clip. In the years Kate had worked with her, Lanie Parish had _never, ever_ worn her hair up, not at _work_ anyway. _Short_, maybe, but _up_? No. At least not all the way…unless it was beyond salvage to be worn _down_..._huh_. And…oh, that was _definitely_ a dark blue turtleneck under that white coat.

"Oh my _God_, Lanie, are you _serious_? _Tell_ me you are kidding right now," she gawped suddenly.

Lanie turned around, giving her best friend a confused eyebrow. "Kate, honey, you _do_ know crack kills, right?"

Kate lowered her voice to a stage-whisper…which, was still pretty loud, actually. Part of her wanted to laugh at the absurdity here - Lanie Parish running around acting like a teenager - and another four or five parts just wanted to crawl off and die. "Is _that_ why Esposito was late this morning?"

Lanie's jaw fell open, and she gaped like a fish a few times before settling on some words. "Girl, how in the _hell…_?"

"Because you _never_ put your hair up, unless it's a total mess, according to you. And it's sixty-five degrees. You really wanna justify a turtleneck?" _Ew, ew, ew_. _This_ was the part of her friends' relationship that Beckett never wanted in on. Bad images. Was there a flight to Cancun she could jump on right about now?

Lanie skirted around her, wiping off some of the tools on the exam tray. "Could we just not talk about this now? How 'bout that, 'cause I like that idea."

"Well, _did_ you?" Kate urged. …What? Sue her; she was still _female_.

"_Yes_," Lanie sighed. "Now in the interest of being _adults_, why don't we move on to Mr. Dougherty here."

Despite being halfway to permanent mental scars, Kate felt a smirk sneak onto her face, and for just a second, she felt _her_ high school self showing through, too. She just couldn't help it. "I think _you'd_ know a little about '_the interest of being adults_.' But sure. Yes. We're done now."

Lanie gave her a look as she pulled the correct drawer from its socket. "Good. Because I'd hate to have to smack you."

And no one talked about it again.

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**^_^ And thus, "**_**good morning**_**" was re-invented. ;) Poor Kate. Part of her wants to girltalk, and the other **_**never**_** wants to picture Esposito that way ever again. Gotta torture her a little. It's fun. XD**

**As always, anyone ages 14 and over who're interested in roleplaying as a Castle character on a writing-based Castle roleplaying forum, please go to my profile and check out the bolded paragraph. We accept OCs too. Thanks. :] **

**Liked it? Are you onboard with a series of Esplanie lovin'? REVIEW! xD (And I haven't exactly **_**published**_** this before, so, letting me know what you liked **_**best**_**/favorite parts REALLY does help.) I adore reviews and my reviewers too, so please don't hesitate to take a sec!**

**More of these to come. ;) **

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	2. A Different Kind Of Initiation

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**Number two, fresh off the…keyboard. XD These oneshots take place at all different points in the Esplanie relationship, so this one is a bit earlier. No one knows about them yet. ;) Special thanks to my friend Cait on this one; couldnt've done it without Chyle. ;) Enjoy. **

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Twenty minutes. It'd been twenty minutes since her phonecall. It was _not_ a twenty-minute drive.

Impatience in every tell on her face, Lanie Parish tapped her foot - you got it: _impatiently_ - at the clock. Hell, she was putting her _career_ on the line for this. Well, okay, no, she wasn't. But she'd _lied_, at least, and she'd never done _that_ before on the job. How hard was it to call uptown to the precinct and say casually, '_Oh, by the way, got some new information on the body_?' Not very. How hard was it to take the damn hint and _drive down here_? Apparently, a lot harder than she'd realized. Lord almighty.

Finally, the double-doors swung open, and Lanie practically _lunged_ forward the second she confirmed the identity of the visitor. (And thanked her lucky stars it wasn't Beckett. Kate was her girl, and all, but a big perk of having a relationship with one of the detectives was that Lanie got to see him at work. This week, that had been happening _way_ too scarcely, and she was about to jump out of her skin.)

"'Ey, _chica_, you called? I wa - "

Whoops, was he talking? Too bad. In the space of two seconds, Lanie had shoved the door shut behind him and grabbed him by his tie. _Mmm_, he'd worn that dark red one today. She did like that one. Liked it better on the floor, which was gonna be its home in a few seconds. She yanked him down far enough to bridge their height difference and crashed her mouth against his, dragging that tie away from his neck, keeping him close, clutching the lapels of his jacket.

Totally blindsided, Javier gave in to the kiss (well _sure_; what, was he _crazy_?), and by the time he broke it off (_had_ to), he was already panting like Scooby chasing after the Mystery Machine, trying to get a breath in. " - traffic," he finished, not that anybody remembered the _first_ part of his sentence. "Jeez; what's wi - "

"I am willing," Lanie cut him off, staring right in his eyes with an _obvious_ message in there, "to do this _right_ here, _right_ now. I want you. On that table. And anywhere else in here you see fit to work with. I am _only_ gonna offer this once. Now. Are you gonna argue?"

Javier only needed three seconds to think about that one. He paused for those three seconds, raised an eyebrow in a way that said '_Point taken_,' and threw off his coat, discarding it on the floor, making a desperate beeline for her lips with his own.

_Mmm, now that's more like it_. Lanie wasn't quite sure if that little moan was out loud or just in her head, but it wasn't like she cared either way. She was too busy making record time unbuttoning his shirt (after all, they had to be more careful about leaving 'evidence' behind in here, so as a consolation, she figured she'd go for a land-speed record). When the last button was loose, she threw the shirt open and ran it down his arms until it crumpled its way to the floor. Her hands slid back to his shoulders, roaming over his chest, down his arms again (and back again…hey, _you_ judge that weakness. Go on. Try).

He tripped out of his pants in record time too; pretty impressive, considering that before Lanie knew it, her arms were being raised above her head, and he pulled off the top half of her scrubs to help adorn the tile down there. It must've been then that he realized she'd _planned_ this: the bra she'd picked that day was black and red lace and _very_ very generous. He was _twice_ as completely enrapt by her now; it was practically like she'd changed the channel on him.

"_Ah, pequeña mujer que confabula_…"

_Oh, God_. "Javi..." The scrubs were history; the underwear matched the bra. (A good temptress always plots this out ahead of time.)

"_Sé una trampa cuando veo un...usted me consiguió_…"

"_Ja_vi…" He lifted her onto the table; she clutched his shoulders and his hands worked at the lace across her back. (He had _better_ keep kissing her neck if he wanted to _live_.)

Other people's voices floated in from down the hallway. Approaching footsteps.

(_Nobody_ was going to be living much longer today.)

Lanie's eyes flew open wide, and she instantly went into panic mode, grappling to get him to go backwards. "Stop, stop stop!" she whisper-hissed, hating it every bit as much as _he_ did.

"Try askin' a mac truck - "

"Javier, _stop_ it _now_."

She _finally_ got him to break away from her, and the _second_ he registered what was going on, he looked something like the Hulk would if he were a little child whose puppy had just been shot in the head on slow-mo replay.

"_I_ am gonna - "

"Shh!"

"Oh, is _that_ what they're callin' it these days? 'Cause _I_ thought I was gonna say - "

"_Will you shut up please? Hide!_"

"Where do you propose I - "

"Figure it out!"

He hadn't finished a single sentence since he'd _gotten_ there. "This was _not_ my idea," he defended himself, wanting to get at least _one_ in for his dignity before…well, before jumping into a supply closet. In boxers. Pretty obvious _why_ at this point. Well, this was just awesome.

Lanie scrambled around the room as the echo of footsteps got closer, frozen between trying to throw her scrubs back on quick enough or just ducking for cover, God only _knew_ how long they'd have to stay hidden in there before their intruders would _leave_… She had to do _something_.

_Aha! _Couldn't be more perfect. At the last second before it got down to fight-or-flight, she spotted a prybar (don't _ever_ ask why they'd need _that_ in an autopsy) lying to her left on the medical tray. Snatching it, Lanie jammed it through the handles of the double doors and then slipped out of the line of sight with the quickness. On the way, she managed to kick the pile of clothes across the floor, too.

"Let me in, _let me in_!" she whispered frantically at the closet door.

He opened it all right, but held it at arm's length, blocking her one way in with a '_You just cried wolf_' look on his face. "Oh _really_. Why should I?"

"Dammit, do I hafta do _everything_ around here?" In the last seconds to spare before the doors started rattling, Lanie grabbed onto the waistband of her boyfriend's boxers and hauled him into the darkness herself - and what went on in _there_, no one would ever have to know.

Least of all their 'visitor,' who gave up after ten minutes of trying.

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Outside the door, Sidney Perlmutter lazily checked his watch one more time, and gave one last tug to the door handle. Nothing. Shaking his head, he simply turned around and walked away.

He didn't get paid enough for this job.

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In the center of the main examination room stood the lone, white, empty autopsy table. At least, it was empty until a hand rose up from behind, clawing like Jack Dawson for a surface it could use to haul up the rest of its body. An arm followed, then the other hand, and a slighter, darker set did the same beside.

Having somehow re-dressed from the waist down from down there - _so_ not ready yet to go looking for everything else yet - Javier threw himself onto his back on across the autopsy table, trying to get his vision to stop spotting. The glaring overhead light wasn't helping, but he was too exhausted to move. Lanie followed him, holding up the fresh sheet she'd grabbed in their transition from the closet to the wall - no, table…no, _counter_, that was it - and bunched it around her like a haphazard toga.

No reason necessary, the M.E. found herself laughing. Just, laughing out of nowhere, no big deal. Probably an adrenaline thing. Javier managed a single "Whoo" of sheer appreciation, getting in the spirit. Each knew the other was probably burning this into their brain to be kept there for the rest of their natural lives.

"That was… That…" Javier actually had to stop and kind of cough right there before he could breathe again. "I freakin' love you."

…High or not, Lanie instantly swiveled her head over that way to raise an eyebrow at him. They'd been dating all of five weeks.

"…For _that_. Love you for…doin'…tha… For." Eh, at least he got credit for catching on. Points for trailing off at the end there. Plus it was kind of cute, but she didn't plan to _tell_ him that.

After having been so polite as to wait for - holy _shift_; did that clock really say it'd been an _hour_? - his cell phone finally broke its silence, chiming from somewhere in the general that-a-way direction. Long as it saved Lanie from having to choose a reply to that, she wasn't about to complain.

Squinting at the ceiling, he didn't seem to fully remember what that sound meant, so Lanie figured she'd help him out. "…Javier." He looked, and she pointed over that-a-way. "Phone. Answer it. …Pants, most likely…?"

"Oh. Right, right." The detective sat up and hopped off the table, snatching articles of clothing as he crossed the floor until he got to the inhumanly noisy one. He rifled through the pockets and found his cell, finally, which he answered twice: once on reflex, then again, professionally, when he remembered his own name. "Yeah. Esposito."

"_Hey. Where've you been?_"

_Damn! _It was Beckett. Javier shot a fruitless '_Help me out here_' glance at Lanie before returning to the phone. "Hey. I was just, ah - "

"_I thought you were headed down to get the autopsy results._"

"Yeah, no, yeah, I was." He covered the speaker with a palm, whispering at Lanie. "Cause of death, cause of death, gimme one, pick one."

"I…how am _I_ s'posta know!"

"Yeah, we're still waitin' on COD," he transitioned smoothly back into the phone. Time was up; not quick enough. "But, ah, it's good. _Really_ good. Surprising. Er. So I hear. You know how it goes." _Well, I know how_ that _goes, now if only_ Beckett _can follow anything I just said…_

"_Fine. Just get back here in the hour unless they need you to liaise_."

Javier took a look up at the clock. 3:44. He looked around the room. He saw Lanie in a sheet. He thought about it. He answered Beckett.

"Yeah, I think they need me to liaise."

Smart answer.

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**Embarrassment: it's going to happen. (Isn't that half the fun?) ;) I miss seeing Perlmutter on the show, so I threw him in. I have a feeling he'd make things amusing. XD**

**Don't forget. Anyone 14 and over who's interested in a written Castle RPG, go see the bold paragraph in my profile. ALSO DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW. I'll love you forever. Just two seconds. Tell me what you liked, pretty please. It helps. It does. I'm countin' on you. xD**

**Anyway! More to come. ^_^ **

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	3. To Your Health

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**This one's a little more personal - they get to have kind of a 'sharing moment' - but there are also references to episode 2x16, "The Mistress Always Spanks Twice." (She was all adventurous/oversharing while he was all nervous-bunny: SOMEBODY had to use that eventually. XD ) And THEN it gets…**_**interesting**_**. So here goes, wish me luck. xD**

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Earlier that morning, Javier Esposito had conducted two interrogations; one with Ryan in the second grill seat, the other alone. Then, after both suspects cracked, he and Ryan had driven out to the Bowery to pick the guy up, and Javier had ended up having to clothesline the guy and slam him to the wall. No big deal, just a Thursday.

If only the 12th could see him _now_.

"A'right; I made dinner, you got dessert," he bargained, talking to his girlfriend from where he stood in front of the stove. He used the same wooden spoon he'd cooked with to start transferring the Spanish _paella_ he'd made from the pan to a Tupperware container. Cops who got home past one a.m. half the week, yeah, they tended to dig leftovers.

"Fine by me." Lanie was at the sink, defying his direct '_I said you do not help clean up_' order by loading up the dishwasher. Even though they were on opposite sides of his not-worth-the-rent-payment kitchen, he could hear the smirk she wore as she spoke. "I still wanna know when the hell you learned to cook."

He puffed up, going for something between nonchalance and VIP wisdom. "You'd be surprised all the stuff you pick up in the Forces. No big deal."

Lanie raised an eyebrow, twisting around to look at him over her shoulder.

"…My gramma taught me."

"Uh-huh. I thought so." _Psh_. She knew he had war stories, but that one was a bit of a stretch. He couldn't butch up _everything_. "How old were you?" She was surprised by her own curiosity, but rolled with it anyway.

"Fifteen. Pop was pullin' double shifts about that time, and Ma would have to work late a lot, so, a lotta nights I would have to make dinner for the girls and me." Javier didn't even stop to think how easily he was sharing his past with her; something he didn't do for a lot of people. He sealed the lid down on the Tupperware, crossing over to Lanie with a silent offer to lick the spoon. "We kinda got sick of Ramen noodles and microwave dinners after a while, so, I spent one whole weekend at _abuelita's_ pickin' up what I could."

Lanie turned, and accepted the spoon, raising her eyebrows again, but for different reasons this time. "Well well well. Color me impressed." She finished off what was left, and handed the spoon back to him - liking his closeness, but not going to call attention to it by _saying_ so.

He wasn't going to say how he liked that little whiff of her shampoo, either. He took the spoon back and went around her to rinse it in the sink. "Yeah. Funny thing is, it's a traditional Spanish recipe and we're not even Spanish. She just liked it."

"So what _are_ you, then?"

"We're Nuyorican, technically."

"And, that is…"

"Puerto-Rican New Yorkers."

"They couldn't just _say_ that? It needed its own word?"

"Apparently. Anyway, it's all Hispanic when you think about it."

Lanie shut the front door of the dishwasher, standing up and setting the dial before dusting off her hands. "Well, seeing's how you didn't burn anything and I've seen _restaurants_ do a _hell_ of a lot worse, I think it's safe to say you pass," she granted him, turning around with a smile.

"High praise." Javier was behind her, so when she turned, she turned into his arms. He let them drape around her waist, and very, very subtly rocked from one foot to the other. "Still, I don't think I'll switch careers or anything."

"Well sure; when you look that fine in a Kevlar vest, who'd wanna waste that?" Lanie teased back, lacing her hands behind his neck. "Of course…an _apron_ might be interesting…"

"Ooh, ouch. There went the rest of my masculinity, thank you," he laughed. "Don't keep that image."

"You can't tell me what to do."

"Then just don't _share_ it. Can't imagine if that got around."

"And it's not as if you don't have a lot worse on that partner of yours," Lanie noted.

"_Much_ worse." Their voices had lowered steadily, the gap between them shrinking until his forehead was rested against hers. "Besides," he whispered through a grin; "I could never quit Homicide. The M.E.s are _amazingly_ hot."

"I'll tell Perlmutter you said that," Lanie chuckled, and those were the last words to enter the equation for the moment. He brushed his lips against hers, slowly, lightly at first. Then deeper, as it quickly became clear that they wanted more of each other. They immersed themselves into the kiss, Lanie rising up on her toes to meet him as his arms tightened around her waist.

The longer he kissed her, the less interested Lanie became in any other plans. She knew he was on her page when a quiet groan came from the back of his throat. Mentally, she tried to work out the best path to his bedroom, but 'thought alignment' wasn't going so well for her right now. A few moments later, she pulled back to take a little breath, and said, in that almost-inaudible way of theirs, "…I think I'd like a rain check on that dessert…"

She gravitated back to him before her sentence even sounded final. It was. She kissed him like she hadn't kissed a man in years, and didn't stop to think what it meant or why. One of his hands slid a little lower, the other coming up to bury itself in her hair, supporting the back of her neck. Finding slow footing, they backed toward the counter, and after _another_ hundred years, it was Javier who parted them this time, even if only barely. She used the opportunity to take in everything about him; things she'd never noticed. How thick his eyelashes were and they way his voice was rough and smooth all at once.

"I know about you. More'n you think." he whispered.

"What _about_ me?" she whispered back.

"What you like…" He moved to leave a warm print of his lips against her jawline, then her neck. "How you like it…"

"I think you knew _that_…from the night before we were officially together," she pointed out, the wind slowly but surely knocked out of her, but smirking just a little bit, all the same. "If you hadnt'a figured it out quick, there wouldnt'a been a second time."

She didn't _hear_ him laugh; she felt that he did. "Not what I meant…"

"Then enlighten me."

What was a relationship without surprises? Lanie was big on that philosophy, and that was a good thing: because surprise her was exactly what he did. He let her wait, his mouth lingering on her pulse point, driving her slowly insane…and then he quoted her directly. "…'_I can do the chocolate…I'll even do the whipped cream bikini_'…I'm just sayin.' …We might not have to skip dessert after all."

As the words registered back, Lanie's eyes widened - hell, opening them at _all_ was a feat. He'd _remembered_ that…he'd known it in the _first_ place… She thought that over, and then her lips curled into the slyest smirk she'd ever worn. "…I don't know…this from the man who couldn't even untie a damn _boot_… Kinda stuff might be a little _advanced_ for you."

Now it was _his_ turn. Javier moved back just far enough to stare at her in question, and Lanie only grinned like the Wicked Witch of the West Village. "Honeymilk and Writer-Boy aren't the only ones who repeat information," was the only explanation she gave him.

"Oh, this conversation isn't over," he promised, before promptly putting an end to the conversation. He dove in, scooping her as close as humanly possible and kissing her as intensely as he dared. Lanie wasn't even caught off-guard. She responded to every move he made, clinging to his back - grateful he was strong enough to catch her if necessary, because her knees were turning into a liquefied cliché. It was the same reason she was glad he'd taken the lead, wherever they were going…before she knew it, they were beside the fridge, and he freed one arm to open it.

When he stopped, moved away entirely, rummaged through the third cold shelf from the top, she was almost going to ask what meds he was on.

Then he plunked down a bottle of chocolate sauce on the counter beside them, and when she looked up, he was staring at her eyes.

"So show me what to do."

…Lanie stared at him. Had he _seriously_ just _suggested_ that they… That they…

Yes, yes he had. Her wicked grin started to make a barreling comeback. Lanie grabbed the bottle and flicked back the cap, holding it out at arm's length, in both hands, aimed at his chest. "First things first. We get rid of _that_." Feeling like a sixteen-year-old, she moved toward him, one foot, then another. "Need me to read you your rights, Detective?"

Oh, he saw what she was doing here. Javier held up both palms in the air, backing away for the show of it. "Don't shoot."

"Got no choice."

"Besides. You don't read me my rights, and I get away."

"Then I can't let you get away, now, _can_ I." The second those words left her mouth, Lanie squeezed down on the bottle, and a shot of chocolate splattered the front of Javier's white t-shirt. She blew on the nozzle like a sharpshooter in an old Western movie, then planted a hand on her hip, grinning like a fool, same as he was. "Oops. Wouldja look at that. Completely ruined."

Her willing victim glanced down. "Huh. S'pose you're right." With one fluid motion, he took the hem, crossed his arms over his head, and dropped the shirt to the kitchen floor. In all his glory, just dogtags and jeans and that look in his eye. "Never liked it anyway."

Call it the starting shot. He flew to her; she met him; mouths locked and hands worked and the floor gained a whole lot of company. With that, space between them was a nonexistent thing, and that was exactly the way it stayed.

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Well. The kitchen floor had officially joined a club that already boasted the bedroom, the couch, and the shower. And the _living_ room floor. The morgue. And then there was that one time in the car. But that wasn't important.

Javier was sitting up again, back against the counter, and what little hair he'd grown out was spiked in some odd directions, with some interesting new streaks. Getting his breath back, he let his head roll left, smirking over at his worse-for-wear girlfriend. "Told you I couldn't resist chocolate."

Lanie laughed, streaking her cheek with it on accident as she batted hair from her eye. "Now, is that why we just did _that_ or why you're with _me_?"

"_Oh_! Touché. Touché."

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**XDD I had to. Oh, don't look at me like that. Like YOU wouldnt've done it. XD So yeah. I hope you guys had fun with that.**

**Interested in joining a writing-based Castle RPG? See the bold paragraph in my profile, please and thanks. Details are all there.**

**And PLEASE consider leaving a review! I **_**really **_**really appreciate those, and I absolutely love to hear what you guys' favorite parts were and everything. Definite highlight of my day, so thank you. ^^**

**More will be on the way! **

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	4. Heat Wave

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**This one was inspired by my suffocating 84-degree weekend, plus - oddly enough - Matthew Morrison's single "Summer Rain." Add a certain book title and a dose of Esplanie, and the inspiration was obvious. ;)**

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It was all over the city. In an ironic turn, their own personal fiction had become their current hell of a reality, picking off every central air-conditioning unit in greater New York. The worst had rolled in. A heat wave.

Despite the two very justified complaints she filed - and the one mumbled offer to change his gender for him - Lanie's landlord was still claiming his hands were tied. Which meant that her apartment was an insufferable eighty degrees and climbing. She was too stubborn to back down on the vacation day she'd taken, or she would've sought refuge in the morgue. As it was, there wasn't a cool sanctuary in all of Manhattan, and it was all Lanie could do to keep waving a magazine at herself, slouched in fatigue on the couch. Baking slowly. That was her.

Apparently her boyfriend hadn't gotten the memo. When the door started opening, Lanie didn't have the energy to get up, though she _did_ consider yelling '_Run for the north border and take me with you_.'

"_Oye_, _chica_, I dunno about _you_ but - " He already seemed to be moving at half-speed in the first place, but once the rush hit him, he slowed like a turtle in La Brea. "Whoa. Okay, so, your place. Not any better."

"What was your first clue," Lanie deadpanned. Her usual greeting, something to the effect of '_Hey handsome_,' didn't really pan out.

"So, this a bad time, or...?"

"No, please, come on in, tan up a little, you're lookin' peaked. More power to ya."

If there was any sarcasm in that, Javier chose to ignore it. He shut the door behind him, crossing to the other end of her couch and sinking down onto it, exhaling into the stillness. They hadn't really factored this in when they'd planned to hang out for the day. "So. Now what?"

"I have no idea, but here. You're gonna need this." Lanie passed him another magazine from the table by her elbow.

Javier took it with a nod, then did a double-take at the cover. "Shemar Moore?"

"Oh, do not even judge. You are not always here."

Eh, worked for him. Either that, or the 'irrational jealousy' part of his brain had already melted. Javier stopped commenting and fanned himself the same way, and neither of them thought to say anything for the next several minutes. Could've been an _hour_, actually; keeping track wasn't really a priority.

After forever, Javier lifted a hand partway off the couch. "What about…"

"None there either."

"Mm."

The silence came back again. If they weren't living the existence of doomed rotisserie chickens, they _might've_ actually been thinking up places to go elsewhere, _anywhere_ with air conditioning. But, that notion was sapped right out of the room along with the oxygen. At least if they had to suffer, there was a sick comfort in not doing it alone.

A dog barked, somewhere on the street below. A car backfired. Some kid was yelling in Chinese. None of those had any relation to Javier sitting up all of a sudden. "That's it." Lanie didn't pay any particular mind, until he pulled his shirt over his head.

"_Whoa_, whoa whoa. _Uh_-uh." She sat forward like a bolt. "Just what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"It's two-hundred fifty-thousand degrees in here; I can't take my shirt off?" He must've been missing something, not like it wasn't too late anyway.

"Not up in _here_, you can't." Lanie went so far as to slide back as far as she could to the other side of the couch. "It is _way _too hot to be…doin' that." And they both knew exactly what '_that_' was. Which was exactly where this would be heading.

Javier laughed. Couldn't help it. "Oh, come on. _That's_ seriously your problem?" He gave a casual shrug, despite the dinging sounds his ego was making. "So resist. You can handle it."

"I am a mad black woman in a pizza oven shaped like a sublet. Don't try me."

"I'm not _stripping_, I'm takin' a pass on _heatstroke_, _cari_."

"Are you forgetting how _we_ started?" Lanie countered.

"No. It involved alcohol."

"And _that_." She nodded toward his shirtlessness. "I mean it, boy, you keep away from me."

He raised both palms in surrender, trying not to laugh. "Fine. Fine. I will stay way, way over here. Now, can we get back to not-thinking about what to not-do besides fry? Unless you got somethin' better in mind."

"You just wait. I'm thinking," Lanie scolded.

"Of course…" _Oh, crap_. He had that damn _look_ in his eye again. As if in sync with exactly what she _didn't_ want to want him to do, Javier stretched an arm out across the back of the couch. "You know, nothin' _wrong_ with it if we - "

"No thank you, wrong answer, hang up and try again," the M.E. interrupted. "I thought you said we were _avoiding_ heatstroke?" Not that it was working so well for her at the moment; _good Lord, if that man was a calendar…no. Resist._ She batted his hand down from near her shoulder. "Are you tryin' to kill me?"

"_Kill_, you, no; that'd make my job harder. Now, if you'd said _s_ - "

"Ahp bah bah. Nope. Go there and I hurt you."

"Ooh, now _that's_ somethin' we could do all day," he grinned. "Unleash the wrath. No, really, I've never seen this in action. C'mon, show me. Is it like Elektra, or is it more like Halle Berry in Catwoman?"

It was a shame that her boyfriend was going to end up in the newspapers as a mangled corpse in the morning. She'd liked this one. Reaching for the empty water bottle on the side table, Lanie chucked it at him, not that it stopped him from borderline cracking up. "Go 'head, laugh. Keep it up and you'll be on ice for the rest of the _week_."

"Yeah, uh-huh. I can see how well _that'll_ go." But his comment didn't earn him any more threats of violence. Because it hit her.

_Ice!_

It was Lanie's turn to smirk like a wicked, wicked plan was in order. "Come on," she said suddenly, bounding off of the couch. "And leave the shirt. I think I know just what to do to cool down." _Then we can heat up_.

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"Barbara, it's just me, honey," Lanie called over the gate between buildings. Carefully, she slipped a hand through the wood slats to unhook the latch.

Javier reached around her shoulder to help, then held the gate as they scooted in. He was glad he'd thought to put his gun back on his belt on the way out of the apartment: this looked like a 'get-shanked-and-deposited' kind of spot. It wasn't that much more comforting when an "_Okay, you got it cookie_" came hollered from the window above.

"So, you gonna tell me what the plan is, or is it a surprise for after I save us from gang members?" he asked uneasily.

"You wouldn't be doin' all the work. I carry mace," Lanie evaded smoothly. Under Javier's watchful eyes, she dug through a stack of crates and tarps in the back until she found the one she wanted, and she let out a cackle of pure triumph. "Got it."

"Got _what_?"

Lanie straightened up, inspecting her find. "Barb always says I can borrow this if I need to. I just never had a reason," she explained slyly. Only _then_ did she turn around, grinning like that damn cartoon cat, and she handed over a big white cardboard box. "Think you can take it from here?"

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Going back to the apartment for this one was pretty quickly ruled off-limits, so the obvious first choice they agreed upon was the roof. They took the stairwell to the top, found it perfectly abandoned - a view to boot - and within minutes, Javier had the pool unfolded, inflated, and had managed to find the service hose coiled near the central air unit.

"Almost set," he said over his shoulder. Lanie was sitting on an edge of the unit, swinging her legs back and forth, tilting her face to the sun. A scorcher or not, it was beautiful out. There weren't too many days like this.

"Good," she commended, watching his back while he filled it up. _Very good_. She slid down and hopped off her perch, coming over to swirl a few fingers through the pool, testing the water temp. "Ooh. Perfect." It really was. Not freezing, not tepid; just cool. Cool enough to soothe away the heat. _That_ heat, anyway. In that line of thinking, she tilted to wink up at him. "And wouldja look at that. Just big enough for two."

Javier gave her a mock-innocent look as he leaned over to crank the water supply off. "Oh? Are you…_suggesting_ something, Doc? I would have no idea."

"Well, just that…watchin' you do all that _manual labor_ there…almost enough to make a girl feel guilty."

He was in front of her then, and he slid his hands slowly down her arms, getting closer. "Oh? S'that so?"

"Mmhm. In fact, I'd say you could use a cool-down." Leaning up to kiss him, Lanie stopped short, their noses practically touching when she turned away.

His response fell somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "Oh, you are a _vicious_ tease, Doc."

"That's okay," Lanie replied, eyes flashing with mischief. "Think I've got a better plan." _Exactly the kind of cool-down I had in mind. _Her arms wrapping around his neck, and his around her waist, she turned suddenly, twisting them both off-balance. With his laugh, her shriek and a _splash_, they fell together into the pool, all two feet of it, and it was no more than seconds before what was left of their obstacles were discarded over the side.

Thanks to that sun, they'd dry anyway, and in a few hours none of the neighbors would know the difference.

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**Whoo! Good times. ^^ (Obviously there was no **_**actual**_** rain in this oneshot, but that was a stylistic decision; I still highly recommend listening to Matt Morrison's "Summer Rain" because it's awesome and Matt Morrison is fantastic. :D ) **

**I should mention/re-mention that I don't own anything you recognize, including the subtle reference to Tyler Perry's 'Diary of a Mad Black Woman' or anything else I may refer to. I'll also remind that there's information on my profile (boldface type) about a Castle RPG forum for those interested.**

**Enjoy this installment? Please, let me know! Just a quick minute to tell me your favorite parts about it will really make my day. It **_**might**_** even inspire faster updates… ;)**

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